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Module BI-21(c)T: Love, Klingons and A Flintlock In The Zeta Bootis System

In this example of gratuitous societal manipulation, cultural contamination wasn’t as wide-spread as the Iotians’, but, nevertheless, still bode ill for the Federation. Why? Because the Klingons were involved. And it’s well known that Klingons aren’t well-endowed with the Prime Directive’s clarity. Even today, they regard the Non-Interference Directive with the same contempt we religiously reserve for the imbecilic humanoid species who sided with the Changelings!

We begin on the planet Neural, where a Klingon, Krell, proved uncharacteristically subtle with barely a hint of barbarity, in his attempts to instill bloodlust in the planet’s indigenous population. Supplying only the Village people (as the city-dwellers were called) with archaic flintlocks to savagely and ferociously wipe out the more agrarian Hill people with whom for centuries they had neither a quarrel nor a tittle.

To sweeten the deal, Krell promised the humanoids, clearly incapable of handling the complexities of ornery and hostile trade negotiations with the Hill people, governorships in the Klingon Empire. The Villagers were not impressed. But, when limitless supplies of Hill valley females were thrown in the bargain, their complete and total lust was guaranteed.

Villager bait!

Even the trio of sublime obliviousness, Kirk, Spock and Dr. Leonard McCoy, were unaware that evil societal tinkering was afoot. Innocently, they foraged the planet looking for medicinal supplies. Kirk, who had visited the planet before, obsessively romanticized his time spent among the peace-loving Hill folk. All the while, singing the praises of his friend, Tyree, one of the hippies whose character was especially tranquil and serene.

Kirk’s myopic reminiscing was rudely interrupted by a surreptitiously crouching band of Village people, who appeared ready to put flintlock bullet holes into his long-ago cherished memories. Seeing them take aim at Tyree and his band of brothers, Kirk hurled stones to stop the insult. Startled, one of the revisionists’ rifle went off, alerting the passing pacifists.

Frustrated, they turned and encountered the historian and his friends. Kirk, not wanting to take Tyree’s place, took off in a sprint, with Spock and Bones on his heels. But the villagers were not armed with mere stones. One took aim and fired, his shot landing square in the middle of Spock’s back. Unceremoniously, he went down. Which was unfortunate, since it was not Spock who had embellished the past.

Phaser in hand, Kirk tried to rectify the situation, but Spock forestalled him. Not knowing the Prime Directive had already been stomped by the Klingon’s irreverence, Spock still sought to preserve it. After beaming back aboard the Enterprise, and placing Spock in the capable hands of Dr. M’Benga, Kirk and McCoy returned to the surface in traditional camouflage to prevent recognition and death.

The Unicorn of Kirk’s dreams!

But before vengeful villagers could catch them, a horned Mugato attacked them, spitting fire from its eyes as it longed to eat them. Never before had Kirk been so viciously accosted. Well, maybe, by a few past lovers. And likewise, he struggled desperately for his life. After a few unsuccessful attempts, the Mugato secured a firm grip and sank its venomous fangs into Kirk’s fleshy neck. Aaaaahhhhhhh!

Initially, Dr. McCoy was in shock. He’d never before heard Kirk scream that passionately. Well, maybe after a few new lovers. Now, it was McCoy’s turn to throw rocks, distracting said beastie long enough to phaser blast it out of existence. And finally making it to Kirk’s side, he heard, “Tyree! Some of his men! Cure!” before he passed out. Kirk that is.

Chancing upon a couple of Hill people, they were, in fact, taken to Tyree. Arriving in the village, however, they were introduced instead to Tyree’s tech-obsessed witchy woman, Nona. Later, they learned, along with a powerful hankering for technology, she had an equally potent lust for the dissolution of her enemies. A bloodthirstiness Krell could only dream of achieving in the Village people.

Tech-addicted witchy woman.

When Tyree finally appeared, he persuaded his shaman wife to save Kirk’s life. She began with a seductive chant, which is always a bad sign. “Return… Return!” as Tyree rhythmically banged a melancholy melody on his medicinal drum. Her black tresses swung back and forth, lashing Kirk’s chest with each beat of the drum, again and again, as she thrust the life-saving Mahko root into his open wound. Kirk strengthened with each pulse, each titillating stroke of her hair, moaning. Until… Until… His fever broke and he succumbed to a limp and weakened body. (*sigh*)

Later Kirk said to Tyree, “I knew you’d find a kahn-ut-tu to cure me,” speaking of Nona and, not long afterward, the sorceress sped up her intentions to seduce him. Ravenously, she kissed him but Tyree spotted the two in the throes of likely-to-occur passions. However, after only a moment’s thought of flintlock-induced permanent separation, like a true wimp, he dropped the rifle and stormed off.

However, a second Mugato intervened and tried to rectify Tyree’s spinelessness. But Kirk disintegrated another insatiable member of this protected species. Barely recovered from the Mugato’s affections, Nona, lasciviously coveting Kirk’s weapon, thumped his head with yet another of those darn stones, and took the phaser. Off she went to the enemy’s camp to share it with a male stronger than the testes-less Tyree.

But, the Villagers, seeing an opportunity to satisfy their true desires, drooled over the tech-wielding enchantress. “This weapon I bring you is far greater than your firesticks!” she howled, holding up the phaser, as several of the randy prospects slobbered on her. Again, they were not impressed. Seeing their indifference, she tried to use the phaser, but they knocked the insignificant trifle away. And continued slobbering.

The installer of crime!

By this time, McCoy found the sulking Tyree, the lump head Kirk and the tossed flintlock rifle. Kirk discovered his phaser missing and the three ran after the instrument-teasing Nona to recover it. Upon finding her, they witnessed the slobbering of Nona.

The villagers also spied Kirk’s crew and immediately deduced that trade negotiations were about to commence. And having inferred that Nona had single-handedly brought this calamity upon them, one of them, now properly installed with Klingon homicidal directives, whipped out his knife and stabbed her. Tyree screamed, “Nooooonnaaaaaaa!”

Tyree grabbed the flintlock from McCoy and felled one of the villagers. Never one to say no to a woman or a fight, Kirk joined the brawl. Even Bones got in a punch or two. But Tyree went mad, lifting yet another of those ubiquitously handy rocks, and (warning: it gets graphic here) bashed the bejeebers out of the last surviving Nona-ravisher.

So strong a lust for killing had been induced by Nona’s death that Kirk, aghast, had to stop Tyree from continuing his assault upon the villager’s corpse. Krell would have been proud. “I want more of these, Kirk.” Tyree demanded holding up the flintlock. “Many, many more.” With sadness, Kirk nodded.

Thus, this sad tale ends by showing us how the Klingons’ small instances of cultural contamination affected an entire species’ trajectory despite the Federation’s never ending struggle to mitigate these kinds of pesky effects. The moral of the story? Whether stoned or not, Klingons will always attempt to manipulate a primitive society and their monkeyshines must always be balanced by copious amounts of trade negotiations and Mugato intervention.